AFTER DROPPING NICOLE off at her brownstone, which wasn't anything like what Mina expected from the familiar – mid-century modern rather than velour and tassels – she and Bee went back to the cemetery.
Threading their way among the graves to the stand of trees, Mina tried to make out the names and dates on the headstones, but many of the engravings were too eroded with age. She wondered if she'd be wandering through another cemetery in a few hundred years, only to find her own parents' names erased by time.
A sound up ahead drew her out of her morbid reverie. She laid a hand on Bee's forearm as she searched for the source. Bee turned her gaze from scanning the ground to look at her. Mina nodded in the direction of the sound, and they both loosened guns in holsters and blades in sheaths.
